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Saturday, August 29

Maybe I'm being overdramatic or idealizing him in death. But I really don't care.

Rarely does the death of a public figure truly affect me. When Michael Jackson died, I felt the tinge of sympathy I feel when I hear of anyone's death, compassion for those who are left behind. When Heath Ledger died, it was the same thing, although the memory of certain scenes from Ten Things I Hate About You did sadden me a bit. But today, while reading through the coverage of Senator Ted Kennedy's funeral procession and the speech that Obama made, I cried. Briefly, but with a heavy heart. Because Ted was not a man who was famous for singing, dancing, selling merchandise with a booming voice, or acting exceptionally well. He was famous for creating change. For committing himself fully to the improvement of civil rights in a country full of people too apathetic to care. For being resilient to sadness and loss and pain. I cried. And part of me feels sappy or stupid or pathetic. But the rest of me knows that it's okay that I did not know him personally or even impersonally. Because the dreams that he had are universal -- dreams of peace and happiness and love. Dreams that he fought hard to bring to fruition. Dreams that so many others have given up on because of fear or laziness or cynicism.

Too many people are eager to explain why they hate politics or don't care for it, because politicians are all the same, all corrupt, and they change nothing. But this man, after losing so much to politics, had every right to give up, he had every right to not want anything to do with Washington DC; but instead, he fought. For his dreams, for his people and for his family. And that's something that, no matter what your political affiliation, should be respected.

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